Family, Minus One
by starry-oblivion
Summary: As he looks down at his brother's tombstone, he knows he has to be strong for the rest of his family.


Standing over a grave at night has never been one of my favorite things.

But he _has_ a grave. That's what's important. People will walk past it and see his name, and they'll wonder what kind of a person he was. Ha. No one will even begin to scratch the surface.

I put my hand over the tombstone, offering some final thoughts. I'm not good at this sort of thing. I don't mourn. I laugh. I joke around. I party. I let the past stay in the past. But when something like this happens…. I mean, Death comes for everyone eventually, so you've got to be prepared to say goodbye.

I just never thought it'd be him. That he'd be the first to go. Though I never spent much time with him, I consider him my brother just as much as any of the others. He taught me so much, even when he got on my nerves or pulled stupid stunts. But that's how you knew he was really my brother.

I only really came to lay his weapons by his grave. He would've wanted it that way, even though he hadn't used them in a battle in ages. I think Raph should've been the one to do it, considering how close they were and all, but he's still taking this whole thing pretty hard. He's actually back at the lair, letting the others comfort him.

Crouching down, I trace a finger around the letters of his name. He left a family behind. A complicated, dysfunctional family. Despite the fact that the funeral was tiny, we won't ever forget him. How can we? He was the ultimate example of the guy who enjoyed playing dice with God or challenging Death to a game of chess. I don't know about God, but I don't play games with Death; that jerk cheats.

"Heh," I laugh quietly as I put the weapons down and stand up. I'm wearing an overcoat, but it had been raining all day and the night air is chilly. "You were really somethin', you know that, man? Of course you do; you told us so every chance you got!" I could almost hear his laughter underneath the mounds of dirt, and that's when I decide that I'm becoming way too morbid. "The others are comin'," I tell him as I start to back away. "They're just still tryin' to get over it. Brain aneurysm has gotta be the weakest way for you to go, bro. Seriously."

"Mikey." I turn around when I hear my name. It's Raphael. I ask him what he's doing here, even when I see the others standing a few rows behind him. He comes over to me, his eyes never leaving the tombstone. "I gotta be here. Ain't no way he'd ever forgive me if I weren't. Trust me, the bonehead will end up bustin' my chops in my sleep."

I look down and see that he's holding something in his hand. He stoops down and stares at the grave for a long while. I shift uncomfortably, hoping he doesn't end up breaking down like he did the night he got the news. Finally, he sighs deeply and lays the hockey mask against the gravestone. "Rest in peace, Casey Jones," he murmurs quietly. "You incurable nut."

He stands again, and I can see that he's about to cry. He wouldn't want Casey to see him like this. I touch his shoulder and he looks at me just before I cover him in an embrace. His defenses have been so crumbled over the past seventy-two hours that he just hugs me right back instead of trying to punch me away, like he usually does.

"It ain't fair," he tells me hoarsely. "It shoulda been a car accident or a fire or somethin'. Goin' in his sleep, at _his_ age, it's just a cop out. It's so cheap."

"Hey," I tell him quietly. "He was getting older. _We're_ all getting older. It's got to happen some way, huh, bro?" It doesn't look like my words are helping him. I didn't think they would. I wonder if he thinks I'm being cold. Cold and distant and not really caring, just like Leo and Donnie.

But the thing is… that's not how we are at all. There are two ways to face this. You can either break and shatter into a million tiny pieces, harboring resentment towards anyone who's not filling up a reservoir with their tears; or you can look at it like the inevitable tragedy it is and be strong for the people who _do_ break, for the people who _do_ shatter. I guess Raph thought I'd be part of that first group. But after seeing the way he and April were tearing at each other that night… I think I just knew where I'd be needed.

After a while, I walk him back towards the other two. Raph's looking down, his hand clenched in a fist. It's like he wants to punch somebody's lights out and is pretty upset that there's nobody to hold responsible for this. Leo, Donnie, and I exchange glances before we spare one last, long glance at the grave. Rest in peace, Casey Jones.

We're still a family, just a little more broken. All it takes is for us to help one another get better. A little glue, a little pressure, a little time. Just like when Raph and I used to break one of Sensei's antiques and cover it up. If you look close enough, you can still see the cracks and the scars. You can still look at it, just not too close or for too long.

Knowing that the nights wouldn't get easier for a long time, the three of us turned to walk Raph home.


End file.
